


hysteria//adrilaf one-shot

by LittlefingersMustache



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:13:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlefingersMustache/pseuds/LittlefingersMustache
Summary: Adrienne travels to America with her husband, leaving their two year old child with her sister Louise in France. After Lafayette is injured at the Battle Of Brandywine, Adrienne receives news of her daughter.//this is sort of based off of Peggy’s hysteric moment in Turn: Washington’s Spies, Season 3 Episode 10.





	hysteria//adrilaf one-shot

Adrienne, at the moment, already hated the patriot cause. 

She wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to their lovely large home in front of a warm fire with Henriette and a cup of hot cocoa and relax. She wanted Gilbert with her, snuggling with her in the dim candlelight of their room. 

Adrienne’s current quarters didn’t even count as a room. It was a cramped tent, barely six feet across, with two sleeping cots pushed together in the corner and a small table with a bowl of water on the other side. Adrienne sat on the double cot, twirling curls on her fingers. She was worried — but that wasn’t new. Her whole brain seemed like a worry factory recently. Worrying about her husband, about Henriette back in France, about the little baby in her stomach doing little flips. She sighed and put her head in her hands. 

Gilbert was wounded. That was the height of her worries — shot in the calf, unable to walk or command any sort of soldiers, at least from his bedside. She wasn’t even allowed to go visit him. She got up from the cot and opened the small cabinet under the bowl of water, and took out a small can of soup — army’s rations. Along with the disgusting rations and bloody soldiers wherever she looked, Adrienne was faced with filthy, uncomfortable wool clothes of the ugliest hues. General Washington had said she couldn’t wear any of the normal, colorful dresses she had packed or else it would draw attention when she went out of camp. Adrienne saw two flaws in that order — she hadn’t gone out of camp since she got here, and even then she had been wearing her French dresses. Second, she and Gilbert had attracted enough attention already, with her husband being the bearer of the news that King Louis had entered the war. Adrienne had also heard the whispers of her own self being prettier than the like of Peggy Shippen, The hailed most beautiful woman in the American colonies. Thank goodness the Shippens were Loyalists, or Adrienne felt that the young lady would march into camp and start tearing all of her dresses up, no matter if they were French or not. 

Adrienne finished her tasteless soup quickly, throwing the empty can it the back of the tent and wiping her hands on her dress. There was the whinny of a horse outside, and she stood, tucking a dark chocolate curl behind her ear. Walking over to the flap, she ducked under the opening and outside into the cool September air. 

A man was dismounting his horse, which pawed at the ground and shifted its weight. The man walked around the side of the horse to Adrienne. Boeing politely, he said, “Madame Lafayette. I was told to bring this letter to you of great importance and urgency.”

Adrienne grew anxious. “What does it say? Is my husband alright?” 

The man shook his head, his brown curls bouncing around his face. “Dunno, madam. Courier rode into camp this morning with His Excellency’s mail and handed the to be separately. He said he picked it up in Boston Harbor on the way here. Said it was from France, addressed to you.”

“Are you sure it is not for my husband?” Adrienne said as the courier took a folded piece of paper from the inside of his cloak. He shook his head. “I checked whom it was addressed to many times on the way here. It definitely says your name, madam.”

He held out the letter and Adrienne took it, reading the address. There it was, clear as day. “Addressed to Marquise de Lafayette”. Adrienne looked up at the courier and nodded politely. “Thank you, sir,” She said, and he bowed back, mounting his horse and riding off in the direction of General Washington’s headquarters. 

Adrienne ducked back into her tent, ripping open the letter. She stood in the middle of the tent and scanned the lines. The courier had not been lying; the words were written in delicate French that only a born speaker could achieve. 

My dearest sister, Adrienne,

It pains me to bring such a horrific truth to you attention, as I have just caught wind of the happenings at Brandywine. I send my deepest prayers to the Marquis. A few nights ago, little Henriette caught a mild fever, which multiplied into a horrible cold. I hope my tears do not blot out these words. 

Henriette is dead. We held a funeral for her last night, the fifteenth of September. I was too overwhelmed to write you any earlier than this. I know you will never forgive me for bringing you this news. For that I am sorry. 

My condolences to you and the Marquis. 

Sincerely,  
Louise 

Adrienne couldn’t speak. She felt as if she had a noose tight around her neck and it was severing her vocal chords. She couldn’t breathe, either. Maybe she was really dangling from the gallows. She dropped the letter, finally finding her breath, only to begin to hyperventilate. She found her voice, too, but not in the form of words. She screamed in agony and stumbled back into the cabinet, causing the bowl to topple off the counter and shatter on the ground, dousing Adrienne’s feet and the hem of her dress in water. 

The cabinet fell to its side with a loud crash, and Adrienne toppled to her knees beside it, wailing loudly. She tore at her hair, and it cascaded out of its pretty updo down onto the shoulders and back. When she was only pulling at loose curls, she clawed at her dress, yanking the scratchy fabric off of her until she was in her petticoats and corset. She screamed again, digging her nails into the dirt. 

There was the sound of the tent flap being flung to the side, and Adrienne looked up to see the young courier from before standing in the entrance. His eyes widened when he saw her dirty, torn-up state, and he took a step toward her. “Madam, let me help you,” He said, reaching out to try and help her up. She only screamed again and yanked herself away from him. “No!” She shrieked. “No! You’re not her! You’re not her!”

The courier looked petrified with fear as he backed away, ducking out of the tent again. Adrienne’s head spun, and she kept tearing at her petticoats to try and free herself of the itchy fabric that confined her. 

The tent flap moved again, and when Adrienne looked up again, it want the courier. Instead, General Washington stood tall and regal in the entrance, his eyes scanning the small space with a worried expression. Behind him, his top aide-de-camp and Gilbert’s best friend Alexander Hamilton slipped into the tent, his face a little curious but mostly concerned as he gripped the hilt of his sword. Lastly came a young man Adrienne had seen from a distance but had never spoken to: Major Benjamin Tallmadge, the general’s head of intelligence. 

“Ma’am, would you please tell me what is the matter?” General Washington said in a deathly calm voice. Adrienne just shrieked once more and clutched the object closest to her, which ended up being a broken piece of the water bowl, and threw it at the General. Major Tallmadge’s hand flashed or and caught the piece of porcelain before it could hit the taller man’s face. The general glanced at the major with a look of thanks and turned back to Adrienne. “What is wrong?” He said, sterner this time. 

“She’s in hysterics,” Colonel Hamilton said, crouching down and picking up the letter. Upon seeing it again, Adrienne lunged for it, desperate to tear it all up into tiny pieces as if it would bring Henriette back. Colonel Hamilton threw up a hand to defend himself, and Major Tallmadge jumped forward and caught Adrienne around the waist. 

“Let me go!” She screamed. “Let me burn it! Let me burn it! She’ll come back! The ashes will bring her back!”

“Please, marquise, calm down,” Major Tallmadge said, wrestling her down into the cot. Adrienne raked her nails across his face and he yelped in pain, but didn’t let go. “Ma’am — just — calm down —“

Behind the major, Adrienne saw Colonel Hamilton hand the letter to the general, who ducked out of the tent. The colonel hurried over to help try to calm down Adrienne, and eventually she ceased her struggles, still screaming and sobbing for Henriette. 

//

Lafayette sat upright in his hospital cot, sighing as he read the daily report. A group of men captured by a British patrol. A patriot being hanged somewhere in New Jersey. 

He looked up as the flap to the hospital tent moved, and General Washington ducked in, taking off his hat and nodding to the soldiers nearest to him. He hurried over to Lafayette’s cot and sat down on the stool next to him. 

“Lafayette, my friend,” he said. “How are you doing?” 

Lafayette sighed. “Better than I was when I first got in here,” he said. “Can Adrienne come visit me now?”

The general pursed his lips. “About her...she was driven irl hysterics three days ago.”

Lafayette sat bolt upright. “What?” He said. 

Washington nodded gravely. “Yes. A courier rode into camp on Thursday with the daily post, and gave her a letter from her elder sister in France. When he was returning down the road he heard her scream and decided to investigate, and entered her tent to find her drenched in water and in her petticoats and corset, her hair a mess. He sent for me and I as well as Colonel Hamilton and Major Tallmadge went in, and Colonel Hamilton found the letter on the floor.”

The general held up a folded piece of paper. “Adrienne proceeded to try to take it from me, screaming that she wanted to burn it and it’s ashes would bring someone back. Major Tallmadge and Colonel Hamilton eventually calmed her down, but she attacked them whilst doing so.”

“You haven’t thought to tell me about this until now?” Lafayette hissed, snatching the letter from his hands and opening it, scanning the familiar French words. When he was done he folded the paper back up, his face drained of any color, and his hands were shaking violently. 

“I have to go calm her down,” Lafayette said, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. Washington stood. “Lafayette, please, you’re still wounded. I will bring her any message you have.”

“And she will maul you like she did Major Tallmadge and Colonel Hamilton,” Lafayette said in reply, wincing as he got to his feet and grabbed his cloak and hat. “I am going, whether you like it or not.”

Lafayette limped out of the hospital tent, walking over to a free horse that was tethered by the entrance. He pulled himself astride one and dug his heels into its sides, and the horse cantered down the muddy road. 

Finally Lafayette reached his and Adrienne’s tent, and he heavily dismounted, his boots squishing in the mud. 

“GO AWAY!” Shrieked a hoarse voice from inside the tent. 

Lafayette’s heart sank when he heard his wife’s voice. He walked around the horse and took a deep breath before entering. 

Clothes were strewn across the ground, and the cabinet was on is side. Lafayette’s eyes traveled from the toppled cabinet to the sleeping cot in the corner. 

Adrienne looked like more ghost than human. Her face was aghast and her eyes were dull, almost hooded in a way. Her hair was tousled and tangled, and her petticoats and corset were lathered in dirt, as was her arms and face. 

She looked like a rabid animal — until she saw who he was. 

Lafayette dropped to his knees and threw his around around her bony shoulders, though pain shot up his leg. His shoulders shook with sobs as he began to cry into her chocolate brown hair, and he dug his fingers into the creases in her corset. 

Adrienne seems frozen, then slowly she fell into Lafayette’s embrace. She too began to cry, holding him tighter than he held her. 

“She’s gone.” Adrienne whispered. “She’s gone.”

“I know,” Lafayette whispered, moving his hands down to rest on her slightly swollen belly. “But I will win this war. I will win this war for her and the little one who will grow up to hear the stories of her older sister.”

**Author's Note:**

> I WROTE THIS IB LIKE AN HOUR IN NOTES WTF
> 
> anyway this is a one shot of my otp being angsty to make up for the lack of updates from crybaby. Hope you enjoyed because I’m missing out on reading my twelve books I pledged to read before my new year smh
> 
> -Grinch!!


End file.
